


Russian Doll

by Chelamine



Category: Dollhouse, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Gen, Memory Alteration, Mind Control, Mind Games, Slavery, tags will be added as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 20:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7589593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chelamine/pseuds/Chelamine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dollhouse seeks to provide people with what they need, and their dolls are the way to do it. All Dolls should strive to be like Natasha, the perfect doll.<br/>Or at least, she was the perfect doll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Russian Doll

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be adding tags to the story as I go as I'm not sure exactly which tags are necessary.  
> This story largely follows the idea of the show Dollhouse (although there is some serious creative licence taken), so it helps to know the show I'm talking about but it's not exactly necessary.

_“I need to get away for a while… to disappear…”_

_“I assure you, we are more than capable of that.”_

_~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_

The L.A. heat was brutal, beating down on the people below as they stepped from their cars and hurried to find shelter in air conditioned high rises lining the streets. One of them, a tall, slender woman with her ginger hair pulled into a neat bun at the top of her head, stepped into the office building with the large SHIELD displayed across the roof. Inside she found an ordinary entrance to an ordinary office building, the receptionist’s desk sitting near the doors and plush chairs lining the entrance room for those waiting for appointments. The floor’s shiny marble reflected everything like water, making the overhead lights seem brighter as they glowed down on the well-waxed floor.

The woman manning the reception desk didn’t look up from her computer as the woman from outside approached, standing patiently as she waited to be acknowledged and then smiling when the receptionist graced her with a bored expression and a raised eyebrow.

“Virginia Potts, I’m here to see Miss Carter?” Pepper Potts smiled down at the receptionist, noting the name Darcy displayed across the nametag.

Darcy nodded, turning back to her computer and clicking randomly, “The new assistant huh? Gotta say I’m jealous, a lot of people work their butts off for years to get that close to the head honcho’s throne and you just walk in from the ether and snap the job up.”

“Well I guess you could just put it down to timing,” Pepper Potts smiled tightly, was there already chatter around the workplace? How cutthroat could a drug conglomeration be?

“Sure, timing,” Darcy smirked, grinning cheekily at her like she was aware of what could possibly actually go on. Pepper Potts smiled and said nothing, resolving there was another way to make her place in this new environment clear-it all would come down to timing.

Darcy’s clicking continued for another minute before she grinned up at Pepper Potts, “Miss Carter’s sending someone down for you,” She bobbed her head in the direction of the chairs, “If you wanna wait?”

“Thank you.” Pepper Potts said, turning without a second glance and seating herself in the rigidly plush chairs, adjusting the small black bag hanging from her shoulder and checking for the third time she’d brought the essentials-gum, mints, hairbrush, mace. She’d left some of her makeup in her regular purse, this tiny black bag was for dates and job interviews. After she’d finished checking, mourning the absence of her favorite color lipstick (soft pinks made for a much more impressive and less menacing first impression after all), she turned to adjusting the straps on her shoes and smoothing the lines in her skirt. Anything to distract from the fact she was on the edge of finally having a job for the first time in months. It’s one thing to be job searching while you’re still stuck in the job you hate, it’s another to be scrambling for work and in danger of losing the small shoebox apartment you used to hate and yet have come to rely on to live. These were her finest business clothes, she’d once been a receptionist too and she couldn’t help but glance jealously in Darcy’s direction a few times, and she worried they were now not up to scratch after months of being the only nice clothes she owned. Plato’s Closet had taken the rest, and she’d used the money gleaned from it to buy groceries that week. All future job interviews were attended dressed in the same outfit, and the skirt had begun to shine from overuse in places.

“Miss Potts?”

A man was standing above her, smiling passively as he waited for her to acknowledge him. He wore a simple, pressed suit, and a clear earpiece wining from his earlobe to inside his jacket. His hands were joined together in front of him, until Pepper Potts turned to look at him, then one was extended to her.

“Miss Carter is waiting to see you now,” He said, “My name is Mr. Hogan, I’d be happy to show you to her office.”

Pepper smiled and took his hand, allowing him to lead her to the elevators where he pressed the button glowing the number four. The doors quietly slid shut before them and Pepper felt the usual jump in her gut as the floor began to move.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy working here,” Mr. Hogan said, and it was here Pepper noticed his nametag, shining silver in the lights, read “Happy Hogan”.

“How long have you been here?” Pepper asked, watching the small digital green numbers slowly climb as the elevator rose.

“About two years, I was a recent new hire after the uh, well, I’m sure Miss Carter will go over it during your orientation.”

“Over what?”

“Oh, company history, that sort of thing,” Happy Hogan smiled gently as they passed the third floor, “It’s really not my place to talk about it, she’s better at explaining it anyway seeing as she was there and all.”

“Where?” But that was when the elevator made a soft ding and the doors opened to reveal two large brown doors. To the side sat an unoccupied desk, the phone ringing and Happy rushing to answer it as he waved Pepper towards the closed doors.

“She’s just inside, I gotta take this and make sure it’s not important.”

With her escort gone, Pepper suddenly felt rather alone as she faced the doors. She swallowed the small panic that comes from doing anything your first day on the job and slowly reached out to turn the handle, pulling the door open and stepping inside to a large yet simple office. There was a desk near the window facing the doors and a wall-filling entertainment center, two of the doors pulled open to reveal a large flat screen TV. From the desk one would travel down three steps to where two large and plush couches sat facing each other, a small oak coffee table between them and the double doors that had just been opened by Pepper beyond them. Pepper stood by the office doors, feeling awkward as she realized she was the only one in the room.

That is, until she heard water running from what she’d assumed was a closet but as the door swung open she realized was a small bathroom. It’s occupant was running a hand through her wavy brown hair but stopped dead when she saw Pepper standing there.

“So sorry,” Her accent was heavily British, and she rushed forward to shake Pepper’s hand as she smiled wide with shiny white teeth hidden behind a set of deep red lips, “I thought I had another minute, otherwise I would have invited you in. Here, sit.” She directed the both of them to the large couches, sitting opposite Pepper and taking a manila file folder that had been sitting beside a crystal pitcher filled with ice water.

“Normally I have something stronger sitting here but I know how tempting that could be on a first day and I need you at your peak,” Miss Carter said, opening the folder to reveal it contained Pepper’s application and several other papers with her name printed across them. Miss Carter looked through them for a moment, quietly muttering to herself as she skimmed while Pepper tried to resist the urge to fix her skirt for the umpteenth time.

“I already read most of your file, I just wanted to look for the key topics I wanted to discuss,” Miss Carter said, pausing on a page before smiling up at Pepper again, “I saw in your application you’ve had five years’ work experience as a receptionist?”

“Yes,” Pepper said, “It was out of an old office building for a small defense attorney firm, I worked there through my last two years of college before they closed up shop.”

“Pity when lawyer firms go under,” Miss Carter sighed, “Never know when you’re going to need one in a city like this, am I right?”

“More than you may realize,” Pepper chuckled lightly, flashing back to a few of the more interesting moments in her career.

“Well you’re in luck, an assistant really is just a  glorified receptionist in my opinion.” Miss Carter said, closing the file, “Of course there are the added responsibilities of whatever I may need you to do as time goes on, but there’s also the normal taking calls and filing paperwork. You shouldn’t be to out of your element I hope.”

“Oh good,” Pepper smiled, throwing in a nervous giggle as Miss Carter smiled warmly at her, reaching out to take Pepper’s hands.

“Welcome to the SHIELD corporation Miss Potts, you can call me Peggy.”

“Pepper.”

Peggy Carter’s smile somehow brightened at that and she released Pepper’s hands as she stood up, “Now I know you were made aware that our facility does a bit more than drug research?”

“You test your treatments on volunteers?” Pepper tried to think what the interviewer had talked about exactly, it’d been a few weeks ago and a tiring day from sun up to sun down.

“Exactly,” Peggy was opening a drawer in her desk and rifling around in it for something, “We offer treatments for willing volunteers, and we do all our testing on site. We also do a bit more than sell and research drugs, were you aware of that?”

“You also reach out to spas?” Pepper knew she’d seen a SHIELD logo at a few of the spa’s she’d applied at around town.

“We do, we search for the best stylists and masseuses around the area, and what better way than to find them through observing their work?” Peggy returned to Pepper’s side holding a badge and a set of keys, “Lucky we had you take badge pictures during your last interview, now it’s all nice and laminated for you.” She clipped it to Pepper’s shirt, smoothing down the wrinkles she’d caused and holding up the small ring of keys, “I’m about to show you the full extent of our purpose here.”

Nervous anticipation aside, Pepper smiled and followed Peggy to the other side of the office, where another door was found. It was much larger, and when it slid open Pepper realized it was a personal elevator.

“This is one of the only elevators that reach the subbasements and it only stops on three floors, this one, the first floor, and the subbasement.” Peggy was saying as she inserted one of the keys she was holding and unlocked three buttons, pressing the one painted with a bold letter “B” and the elevator began to move, “Most of the essential staff live on site of the building, a few of the more menial ones come and go as needed.”

“People live in the basement?”

Peggy smiled, “We’ve done the finest job renovating cold concrete into a person’s paradise. We used every expense and resource available to us, and now it’s something of a work of art.”

The elevator came to a stop, dinging open and Pepper was hit with a cool burst of air and the smell of rain wafted in.

“Oh my…” Words were lost as what one would have assumed was a cold and concrete parking garage or storage room was actually what appeared to be a large spa, complete with shiny wooden floors and large green foliage spilling from nooks and crannies down the walls and along the floor in small watery islands. Around them sat pastel colored couches and a waterfall trickled happily along an entire wall.

Pepper stood on an upper level, overlooking the spa and leading to a few rooms that looked out on the spa—like environment below through large paneled windows.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Peggy smiled, “Come along, there’s quite a number of places to visit before your orientation ends.”

Pepper followed Peggy towards one of the rooms overlooking the area below, stepping into a hub of computers that buzzed combined with a small living space. Beyond it there was a doorway leading to another room where two people fussed over someone lying back in a chair.

“This is the imprinting room,” Peggy said, “It’s looked over by our live-in technical genius Anthony Stark.”

“I prefer Tony!” Came a call from the room beyond, a man dressed in a rock band t-shirt and sweats waved at them before returning to his computers and Peggy urged Pepper forward.

“See, we primarily work in the business of providing services for those who have a difficult time satisfying their own needs. We do that by making our employees as perfectly tailored to each situation as we can and that includes tailoring their mental process.”

“The woman who interviewed me explained as such,” Pepper nodded, it was beginning to come back. At the time it had sounded weird, impossible even, but to see what had been described to her materialize was a bit surreal, “You satisfy people in need with people who volunteer to become whoever is needed-and in return those people who volunteered are set for life.”

Peggy smiled and nodded approvingly, “I do pay our recruiters to make the job sound as wonderful as it is, I’ll have to give the woman who interviewed you a raise. See, I’m always a bit afraid people won’t see eye to eye with our company, some people don’t.”

“I’ve had time to mull it over,” Pepper smiled, turning to look at the woman lying back in the chair, a host of gadgets surrounding her. The chair leaned back into a sort of ring, with its own control board which was manned by a young girl with short blonde hair. The ring glowed blue where it faced the woman in the chair’s head as the machines whirred and the woman made a gasp now and again.

“The imprinting process is a bit intense,” Peggy explained as Pepper frowned at the sounds of distress, “But in the end no one remembers the actual process so no tears get shed.”

“It has to be intense or we’re stuck here for hours,” Tony Stark said, turning to face them and offering his hand, “Tony Stark, genius and single.”

Pepper smirked, taking his hand to shake, “Pepper Potts, not interested.”

“Just wait,” Tony grinned cheekily, turning to his screens and pointing at the different charts and readouts, “Isn’t it interesting? I literally can put a brain inside another brain-whole new person right at our whims.”

“And the volunteers were aware of this?”

“We gave them a full tour,” Peggy said, “That’ll be a part of your job once you know the place well enough, and trust me you’ll come to think of this place as home as quickly as the rest of us did.”

“Well, most of us. You ask Pierce he treats it like a glorified prison.” Tony said, turning back to adjust something on his monitors, “You’ll love Pierce by the way, he’s a cupcake.”

“Mr. Alex Pierce is our head of security,” Peggy said, “He’s out on one of our more higher profile engagements otherwise I’d introduce you.”

“I’m sure I can wait until he gets back,” Pepper smiled.

“Anyway,” Tony turned back to the two of them, “Everything in here? Don’t touch. I’ve already cleared it with security and Carter here to punt anyone who touches my stuff besides the two monkey’s over there,” He indicated the blonde girl and a boy in thick black glasses, “My assistants.”

“I’m Gwen,” The girl said, giving a small smile and a wave, “And that’s Peter.”

“Both waiting for the day when they can snag my job away,” Tony sighed, “I’ve taught them well.”

“And this,” Peggy said, turning to the woman in the chair, “Is our number one Doll.”

“Doll?”

“We refer to the volunteer’s as Dolls,” Peggy explained.

“Because between engagements they are literally just Barbie dolls.” Tony added.

“They were aware of that as well,” Peggy rolled her eyes, turning to smile down at the woman who let out a final gasp before the blue lights turned off and the chair began to rise into a sitting position, “This is Natasha. She’s our model Doll.”

The woman smiled up innocently at the two of them, large eyes wide like a child.

“Did I fall asleep?”

_~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_ _♥~_

Once the heat of the day in L.A. retreats and the dark of night takes over, the party lights snap on around the city and music pumps through buildings and into the open air, letting everyone who hears dance like the sun is never coming again to burn their skin or blind their eyes.

The niceties of being able to dance and the lavishness of the party lights, and the parties themselves, vary from place to place, and in some they seem almost surreally fantastical-the amount of money required to make them reality almost obnoxious.

Or that’s what Natasha’s date was saying as he boasted in the back of their limo about how lucky she was to be attending the charity ball on his arm.

“My own little Cinderella, fresh from her box and ready to party.” He laughed as the door was opened and they stepped out onto a plush red carpet. Cameras snapped around them and questions were shouted but they hurried past, Natasha smiling constantly up at the man as he waved to those they passed.

Obadiah Stane was a very rich man sitting in a high seat of power in Stark Industries, a benefactor of the SHIELD conglomerate and funding a large chunk of their medical research. He was old, with crow’s feet around his eyes and gray coloring his beard. It would have colored his hair too, but that was shiny and bald, reflecting the lights of the room off of it.

He smiled down at Natasha, dressed tightly in a pink dress so short it didn’t leave much to the imagination. She was looking around at the party, the guests in flashy tight clothes to rival hers, the elegant décor boasting of people who had money, and the elegant music playing over the speakers as a live orchestra played into microphones across the large banquet hall.

“Wow this party is quite exquisite.” Natasha giggled, walking closely to Stane as he led her around the hall.

“Only the very best for my dearest princess.” Obadiah smiled as a new song, a waltz, began to play, “Would you care for this dance?”

Natasha took his outstretched hand, detaching herself from his other arm, and the two walked side by side onto the dance floor where they joined a dozen others in preforming a waltz to Dmitri Shostakovich. Together their movements were fluid and symbiotic, as if they’d been preforming this dance together for years when no one had ever seen the pretty red head on the arm of Stane before. As the music continued, the grace of the movements and the strong partnership of the two dancers had many onlookers watching with a smile, a few of the less skilled dancers pausing to watch just how they should go about things. Obadiah grinned excitedly down at Natasha, who laughed merrily as they realized together they’d begun to lead the others in the dance.

The dance began to reach its climax, the dancers moving away from their leaders and allowing Natasha and Obadiah to finish the song in one another’s arms, smiling wide as a host of people applauded around them. The two took their bows, Natasha grinning wide and giggling as she was led from the dance floor towards the buffet table, hand in hand with Obadiah who lavished her with compliments.

“You dance like a professional, like a ballerina!”

“Well, mama insisted I take lessons since I could stand on my own two feet,” Natasha chuckled, accepting a glass of wine from a passing busboy and taking a small sip, “I hated it at times but it comes in handy now and again.”

“Out there, on the dance floor, you’ve never looked more beautiful.” Obadiah said, running an affectionate hand through her hair, “I have to say it must be amusing, dancing with an old fart like me.”

Natasha sighed, setting the glass of wine down on the buffet table they approached and wrapping her arms around Obadiah’s neck, “You sir are a glorious man with wisdom and a story, and I love you absolutely. I can’t get that from any of the shiny playboys lurking around here, I can only get that from a man like you.”

A blush had begun to break out across Obadiah’s cheeks and he reached up to rub his thumb against Natasha’s arm appreciatively, “Dancer, poet, you are a true muse my dear.”

“And I’m all yours.” Natasha added before leaning up for a kiss.

“Mr. Stane!” Someone called as they approached, breaking the two apart and coloring the blush across Obadiah’s face brighter.

It was a short man with thinning hair and round glasses. He wore a bow tie and his suit was a bit wrinkled, not as nice as the others around the hall. He smiled warmly at the two of them and Natasha returned the expression genuinely. Obadiah gave him a patronizing smirk, reaching out to shake hands with the bespectacled man before retrieving Natasha’s wine glass and handing it to her.

“And who is the lovely flower on your arm?” His accent was European, probably Germanic. He’d told everyone where he was from yet no one ever seemed to remember.

“Well Zola, this,” He placed a gentle hand around Natasha’s shoulders, “Is my lovely date Natasha. Our families go way back and she was in town for the weekend. I thought it was a good chance for us to do some catching up.”

“Yes, I can see the two of you are getting along _quite_ nicely.” The little man chuckled, reaching out to kiss Natasha’s hand, “Such a lovely creature, Stane doesn’t deserve you.”

“Oh and you do?” Obadiah laughed and Arnim Zola chuckled along with him, eyes fixed on the smiling Natasha.

“I think anyone worthy of possessing such a jewel should have to earn her, no?” He touched glasses with her before taking a generous sip, “But that’s only a good doctor’s opinion.”

“Well I’ll be sure to keep it in mind,” Natasha nodded, reaching up to take the hand still around her shoulders and squeeze it tightly.

“And while this lovely distraction is a joy to look at, I have to ask, where is Mr. Stark? Still playing hermit in New York?”

“Unfortunately.” Obadiah sighed, “Ever since his father’s passing the poor boy can’t seem to take away from his work long enough to rejoin society. It’s the guilt I suspect, the two of them had a falling out and they never had a chance to patch things up.”

“Guilt is a terrible thing to plague the conscience,” Zola nodded, “Perhaps he should see someone, this level of isolation can’t be healthy.”

“No doubt, I’m looking into it though so don’t you worry.” Obadiah smiled, “And if I’ve answered all of your most pressing questions Zola, I’d like to enjoy the rest of my night with the lovely Natasha here.”

“Of course, of course, have fun, the two of you.” Arnim Zola chuckled, waving goodbye as he downed the last of his wine glass and went in search of another. With him gone, Obadiah turned to his date and the two shared another romantic kiss before the music began again and the two were joining hands.

They danced most of the night, so much so that Natasha had to abandon her shiny black stiletto heels to relieve the pain of her aching feet. The two ate and drank together, Obadiah’s face eventually coloring due to the level of alcohol he consumed and the two left by getting helped into their limo, where the isolation allowed them to abandon the inhibition of remaining chaste while touching. The kisses grew heated, the breaths turned to pants and gasps, exclamations punctuating the air as they drove. Natasha was atop Obadiah Stane before they were crying out and when they’d both exhausted themselves Obadiah leaned forward and slid open the small window separating them from the driver.

“Head for the building, I need to drop off Tony’s toy before I head home.”

“Yes sir.”

Natasha crawled towards Obadiah as he leaned back, wrapping her arms around his chest as he put himself back together.

“I love you.” She muttered, pressing her face to his neck and he pecked her gently on the head. They rode together all the way towards a building with SHIELD glowing in bright white letters along the top of the building on all four sides, turning down into a parking garage and coming to a stop just before a waiting man in a pressed work suit wearing an ear piece.

The man was tall and well-built skin dark as melted chocolate with a number of darker scars around his left eye. In fact he had an eye patch covering the left eye, simple and black yet invoking a large amount of mystery seeing as he was so quiet about its origin. As the car pulled up before him he opened the limo door and leaned down so he was eye-level with the couple inside.

“Natasha, would you like your treatment?”

Natasha looked back at him before glancing at Obadiah who nodded encouragingly.

“Of course,” She nodded, turning to climb out before looking back at Stane, “You’ll wait, right? It won’t take long.”

“Of course dear.” He nodded, reaching out to peck her on the cheek, “I’ll leave the car running so we can drive straight home.”

Natasha smiled, turning back to the man in the suit and accepting his hand as she climbed out. The door to the limo closed behind her and as she was escorted to the elevator she only got a wave in before the elevator from the parking garage to the sub-basement was closing and the limo took off not long after.

“He’s such a sweet man,” Natasha said, turning to the man before she frowned, “Do I… know you?”

The man smiled warmly, “We’ve seen one another in passing.”

“Oh, at Obby’s office?”

“Here and there.”

“What’s your name?”

“Nick.”

Natasha smiled, “I like you Nick, you seem interesting.”

“I’d hope so,” He said, referencing the eye patch, “This didn’t happen in the shower.”

“Well then how-“ The elevator dinged open and Nick Fury gently escorted her out.

“A story for after your treatment, I’ll tell it while I’m escorting you back to the limo upstairs.”

Natasha smiled and the two entered the Imprinting room, where the machines whirring around them seemed comforting in a way, just as the bright smile of the man in the Black Sabbath T-Shirt made Natasha smile somehow wider.

“Oh good ol’ Obby, really likes them peppy.” The new man muttered.

“Only you would know Tony.” Nick sighed as Natasha sat down in the chair, relaxing into it before it began to descend.

“Did he ask about me?”

“Not a word as far as I know-although Zola brought you up.”

“Creepy dude, never trusted him.”

There was a harsh _ZAP_ and the chair was ascending, Natasha’s eyes opened and instead of the bubbly excitement there was a doe-eyed look of wonder.

“Did I fall asleep?” She asked dreamily.

“Only for a little while.” Tony said.

“Can I go now?”

Tony nodded, “If you’d like.”


End file.
